


And There You Were

by 2space_lesbo1



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: A little bit of gore, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Animal Death, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Gore, Minor Character Death, Violence, and make baby child lol, its implied tho, love that tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22282405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2space_lesbo1/pseuds/2space_lesbo1
Summary: Geralt goes into the castle once the fighting begins.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Comments: 24
Kudos: 246





	And There You Were

**Author's Note:**

> yuh.......... watched the series and the games........ gonna read the books when i get money.......... love ciri and geralt.......
> 
> geralt, i love you, but like, you were all "of ciris in danger i'll come back" and then when fighting starts in her kingdom you didn't go straight for her isnrkwkekwkwkw
> 
> i find it so funny dont @ me
> 
> i just wanted to write this quick au cause i need more geralt and ciri fics because their relationship is so cute
> 
> also lemme know if i did a good job writing them. it's my first time writing for these characters so idk if i did good or not lol
> 
> i'll shut up now

  
  


The sounds of battle above his cell reaches his ears, chaos exploding around the kingdom, and instantly, he knows what he needs to do. He acquires the key, opens the cell door and grabs his weapons, making his way upstairs. He doesn't let anyone stop him or get in his way, cutting them down and pushing their bodies behind him. 

The fighting is madness in the floors of the castle, and he kills only those who get in his way. He doesn't have a side, an allegiance to either kingdom, still, so they are only his enemy if they try to stop him. He wasn't going to let anyone stop him. Not now, when Ciri needed him. 

He wasn't sure how he knew she needed him. He just did, like a feeling in his gut, in his chest, a calling of his name barely above a whisper. A panicked whisper, one filled with emotion, but there nonetheless. He felt it, felt  _ her _ afraid, hurting, and needing him. And he wouldn't let anyone stop him from reaching her. 

“Geralt!” someone was calling him, ahead of him. He swings the sword, successfully cutting a man’s arm clean from his shoulder. The man screams before falling over due to his shock, and Geralt spins, sword ready as his eyes land on Mousesack’s face. His hands are raised, and his face looks drained. He was exhausted. “Thank the gods I found you.” 

He doesn't waste time with idle chatter. “Where is Cirilla.” 

Mousesack nods, relief in his eyes. “Follow me.” 

The sorcerer must be using some kind of spell, because none of the soldiers even look their way. The air ripples around them, and Geralt was sure Mousesack was using a low grade spell of cloaking. He keeps his sword in his hand, anyway. 

They come upon the great doors that lead to the queen’s chambers, and Geralt tenses as they are pushed open. The queen’s right hand guard tenses as they enter, but Mousesack raises a hand and he takes a step back. Calanthe herself isn't laid on a lounge, heaving as her stomach bled and a child hovered over her, the small body shaking with tears. 

Ciri. 

The girl turns, eyes wide as they land on him, and he can see the recognition in them as she squeezes her grandmother’s hand. There is only a moment of hesitation before she leaps towards him and against him. He quickly sheathed his sword to catch her, hugging her tightly as her small arms wrapped around his waist. He was never good with physical contact, or comforting people, but in this moment, he knew exactly what to do. Exactly what she needed. 

“Witcher.” he only looks up at the queen’s sharp voice. Still strong in her final moments. They all knew- even Ciri- that she was going to die soon. Either from blood loss or by the enemy’s cold hands. She is staring at him, hard, lips pressed together tightly. “Do  _ not  _ let her die.” 

“I wouldn't even think of it,” Geralt told her, and his words seem to give her some kind of comfort. She nods sharply, turns her eyes on her guards. 

“Make sure they escape,” she ordered, and now Ciri is pulling from Geralt, looking back to her grandmother. 

“Grandma,  _ no _ ,” she cried. She made a move to go to her again, but Calanthe’s pointed stare has Geralt moving as well. 

“We must leave, Cirilla,” he told her, as kindly as he could. The child looks back at him through wide, tear filled eyes. She looks as though she is about to protest, to argue and beg to stay, before she presses her lips together tightly, and nods. He offers her one of his hands, ignoring the surprised gaze of the queen at his friendly gesture. “Now, hold onto my hand and do  _ not  _ let go. I will keep you safe, but I need to know where you are.” 

Ciri nods again, takes his offered hand in her own. She throws one last glance to her grandmother, who gives her a tight, strained smile, jerking her head. Geralt then pulls lightly at her hand, and she follows after him, her grip tight around his. One of the guards exits the room, a grave expression on his face as the other follows behind Geralt and Ciri, Mousesack beside him. 

Switching back to his battle ready stance, he unsheathes his sword with his free hand and strides from the room. With Ciri in tow, he would have to compensate for the lock on his maneuverability. 

And he would. He would not let anything happen to her. 

As soon as they exit from the castle, Nilfgaard soldiers charge at them, swords raised. The guard who had followed tried his best to help, but he was quickly overcome by three enemy soldiers. Mousesack holds back two with a spell, and the rest fall on Geralt. 

Geralt moves Ciri’s hand to hold onto his tunic- “Hold tight.”- before blocking an attack in one fluid motion. He kicks another back, pulling Ciri out of the way of another man’s hacking. He thrusts his sword into the soldier’s side, just between two of the joins of his armor and pushes it through his flesh. He then dodged another swing, and yanks the sword from the soldier’s side, digging it into another opponent's shoulder. 

Ciri does as he told her, and holds tightly to his tunic as he tears through the soldiers. She begins to move with him, as though she started being able to read his movements, and does not wander once from his side. He finishes the last of the soldiers off by decapitating him, his head hitting the ground with a thump. Ciri’s hold on him tightens slightly, and briefly, he thinks of how this must be her first time to see such death and carnage. But now was not the time to apologize or comfort her. He could do that later, when they were not in immediate danger. 

He grabs her hand again and glances to where he'd last seen Mousesack. The sorcerer was nowhere to be seen, but neither was his body. He could be alive, but they had no time to look for him. He knew the sorcerer would agree with this, that his main concern was getting Ciri away just as much as it was Geralt’s. 

So, he makes his way to the nearest horse and helps Ciri climb on. He pulls himself on behind her, and spurs the horse straight into a gallop, pushing it as hard as it could go. He'd need to find Roach- this horse was slow compared to her. 

Ciri glances behind them, and rugs at his arm. “Someone is following us!” she shouted, and Geralt looks behind as well, grunting in frustration to, in fact, see a Nilfgaardian soldier hot on their tail. One that had a crossbow, too. That was a problem. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, before he could even think about Ciri was a child and probably shouldn't hear profanity as such. He pulls on the horse’s reins, hard, and the horse digs its hooves into the ground, skidding and kicking up dust as it struggles to stop. He holds tightly to Ciri as she grips at the saddle at the sudden change in momentum, eyes screwing shut. The soldier is aiming as Geralt falls in by his side and knocks him in the side with his sword, hitting him from his horse. He then slices the saddle off and lets it fall to the ground as well. He then kicks at the horse’s sides and whips the reins. 

The horse grunts and picks up its speed once more, reading its head. It didn't like how Geralt was riding, but he didn't care at all. Ciri’s skin is pale, nearly like a sheet of white as they exit the city, having no further complications. 

Dust and stone turns to grass and dirt as they charge into the wilderness, fire and screams their background. Ciri is looking behind them again, holding onto his arm to peer over it, at the city she'd been raised in. Geralt moves his arm, gently pushes her to be facing forward again and tells her, “It will be easier if you don't look, Cirilla.” 

The girl swallows heavily, keeps a tight hold on his arm, her knuckles shaking. Her entire body was shaking. “Ciri,” she said. Her voice was shaking. 

“Hm?”

“Call me Ciri.” 

Geralt nods, and hums in acknowledgement. “I will keep you safe, Ciri,” he told her. 

She turns to stare into his eyes, the horse continuing to pant as Geralt kept it at a hard gallop. She seems to be searching his eyes for something, before she turns once more, leaning back against his chest. “I know,” she said eventually. 

The rest of the ride is silent, and Geralt keeps the horse galloping until they can only see the smoke in the sky. He lets it slow to a canter, only a tad guilty for pushing it so hard. Only a little, though. If Ciri's safety was in trouble again, he would make it run all over again. 

Ciri was also growing tired, leaning heavily into him as her eyelids began to droop. If not for Geralt’s arms keeping her steady on the saddle, she would have already fallen off the side. He knew that they would have to stop soon, but he would rather get as far from the city and possibly find a town they could blend in with the rest of the citizens. He would also have to get a robe for her to cover her hair and face, maybe grab some ink to change its color. With her permission, of course. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, and Ciri jumps against him. She sits up a bit more, and nods quietly. 

“Yes, sir,” she said, and that wouldn't do. 

“Don't call me sir,” he told her. “Call me Geralt.” 

She blinks, and nods again. “Yes, Geralt,” she said, and a small smile pulls at her lips. He offers his own in return, and he knows it's a sorry excuse of a smile. Tight and rough, since he doesn't smile often, and hadn't in quite some time. But she seems to like, because she smiles a bit wider. Something warms the inside of his chest, something he hadn't felt before. He just knew that Ciri was the cause of it, and that he didn't hate the feeling. “Only a little bit, though.” 

“I'll get you something,” he replied, and stops the horse. The horse buckets and comes to a halt, its sides heaving and plastered with sweat. He needed Roach back, she would still be able to go. Even if she did complain about it. He slides from the horse’s back and helps Ciri down as well. The girl sways a moment, and then catches herself, brushing her dress down and pulling at the gloves on her hands. He'd have to buy her more suitable clothes for the weather, too, it would seem. He didn't need her freezing on him. “Stay here with the horse. If anyone finds you, get back on and run. Don't stop. I'll find you again.” 

Ciri’s lips thin and she frowns tightly. “But I don't want to leave you, Geralt,” she said, and she steps closer to him, grabbing his hand once more. He tries not to tense at the physical contact he hadn't engaged, knowing he'd have to get comfortable with it if he were to be traveling with a young girl now. Her lip is trembling, “I'm afraid, Geralt. Please don't leave me alone. I'm not hungry if you will stay.” 

Geralt sighs heavily. He was not suited for dealing with a child. He was raised to hunt and kill monsters, after all. But he knew Ciri needed him, and deep down, he had a feeling that he needed her, as well. Even if he didn't want to admit to that. He wasn't sure why, because he hadn't ever truly wanted children, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with the Law of Surprise and “Destiny”. Fuck Destiny. 

He crouches down to meet her gaze, and squeezes her hand lightly. “Ciri, I will not go far,” he told her, making sure his voice was lighter than its usual growl. He was speaking to a child, not some idiot man. “I am sorry if what I said frightened you, but it is a precaution. I will not be gone long. Only long enough to hunt for something for you to eat.” He never speaks this much. It was a strange feeling, but he didn't mind explaining things to her. 

Ciri swallows heavily, before drawing in a deep breath, steadying herself, and nodding. “Promise you’ll come back?” she asked lightly, with the fear of one who had seen too much death in the span of a few hours. 

“I will  _ always _ come back to you,” he said seriously, completely meaning it. If they were ever separated, he would search the ends of the earth for her, kill anyone who tried to keep her from him, and do anything to find her. It was a strange feeling to have for someone so soon, but he decided to assume it was due to their linked Destiny again. She smiles at him again, and wraps her thin arms around his neck in another hug. He accepts it, and uses one of his own arms to hug her in return. Then, he stands as she pulls back. “I will not take long. Remember, stay with the horse. I get the feeling she needs attention.” 

Ciri grins at his last statement and walks to the horse’s side. “Hi,” she said lightly, and the horse nickers between breaths, before nudging at her face with its nose. Ciri laughs, and that warm feeling grows in Geralt’s chest again. 

He shakes himself inwardly and heads deeper into the trees, keeping his ears alert for any prey he could capture quickly. He didn't want to be away from Ciri for long- at any time soldiers of Nilfgaard could find them and try to kill her. He narrows his eyes, searches for something catch. 

He ends up catching a fox, tossing it over his shoulder and heading back to where he'd left Ciri. She is sat in front of the horse, leaning against one of its legs as it chews on some grass in its mouth. She looked concerned, picking at the grass the horse didn't eat. As soon as she sees him, she jumps to her feet, relief washing over her expression. Then she sees what he caught and she makes a face. 

“A fox?” she said, and then seems to realize she's complaining and quickly apologizes, “Not that I'm ungrateful! I am very grateful, it's just that I've never eaten fox be-” 

“I know,” he said, sitting down nearby to her. He places the fox body on the ground in front of him, and then looks up at her again, noticing how antsy she was, as though she wanted something to do. “Could you gather sticks for a fire? Dry ones, with some dead leaves. And big ones.” 

She seems grateful to him, again. “Yes, I can do that!” she exclaimed, and heads for the bushes surrounding them. He grabs the fox’s head and pulls it up to its shoulder, pulling a knife from his belt. He looks to where Ciri is crouching, gathering sticks, and calls to her. 

“Do not go too far,” he told her. “Stay in my line of sight.” 

“You got it!” she called back, and pulls a long branch from one of the bushes. She scurries back to their clearing and drops the leaves in a heap, and then returns to collect more as Geralt begins to skin the fox. 

“That's enough,” Geralt tells her after she drops a third load of branches. She nods and sits down beside it, watching him finish skinning the fox’s corpse. He then sets to cleaning it and cutting it up, placing the cut pieces on the cleanest rock he could find. Then, he starts the fire, not minding Ciri’s curiously fascinated gaze watching him do it all. He sets the meat in the flames, and sits back, looking across to the girl. “It won't take long to cook.” 

Ciri nods again, and then pulls her knees to her chest, watching the fire dance and crackle. He can see it, the emotions in her eyes. Sadness, loss, confusion. He can see them all and he can understand them perfectly. He just didn't know how to comfort her, how to tell her it would it be okay when really, it wouldn't be for a very long time. He sighs and flips one of the slices of meat. 

“Don't think about what happened,” he says to her, instead of patting her back and telling her it would all be alright. Her eyes trail the air to his face, watching his face, searching. “It will only hurt to think about it. You can't do anything for Cintra now. All you can do is keep going.” 

“But how?” she asked, her voice cracking like the embers in the fire. She is looking to him for guidance, for protection, for care and for love. He would learn to give to her all in due time, but for now, he is stumbling with words, with ideas. “I've lost everything. My grandmother, my grandfather, my home, my people. I don't see how I'm supposed to be able to move on.” 

Geralt contemplates this. Remember his own past, his own childhood for just a moment, before pushing it all back again. He shakes his head, and flips another piece of meat. “You haven't lost everything,” he pointed out. “You're still alive, you're still here. You can continue living for those who can't, and for yourself.” 

Ciri lets out a breathy shake and a tear slides free from the corner of her eye. She quickly wipes it away, and looks away as though it hadn't been there. Then, she looks hesitantly towards Geralt, and asks in barely a whisper, “Can…. Can I sit with you?” 

Geralt smiles again that night. It's already becoming easier, more natural for him to do, and she's only been with him for a few hours. “Sure, Ciri,” he replied. 

She uncurls her legs and pushes to her feet, and then walks to stand beside him. Then, she sits beside him on the dirt, glancing at his face momentarily before scooting to lean on his side. When he makes no noise against it, and doesn't move, she rests her head on his shoulder. He slowly wraps one of his arms around her scrawny shoulders, unsure if that was okay. She seemed to like it, though, and nuzzled closer to him. 

The warm feeling in his chest was back with a vengeance. He doesn't stop smiling, even when she can no longer see his face, unable to stop. 

Okay, maybe he did want a daughter. 

**Author's Note:**

> PLS LEAVE COMMENT????? 
> 
> i love comments 
> 
> i may write more for these two if anyone is interested- ok i will write more for these two, but i'll only post them if people want me to lol


End file.
